Suave y gris
by witchfingers
Summary: ['Character' death] It was soft. And grey. And dead. [Mugen x Fuu]


**Disclaimer:** No. I don't own SC. If I did... (pictures Fuugen for the ending... hehee)

Hey! I saw it today! Grey is the British spelling for gray... :S... Enfiiinnn  
So much for an "invented" word.

**Suave y gris: **Spanish for 'Soft and grey'

(Era suave (_it was soft_). Y gris (_and grey_). Y estaba muerto (_and dead_).)

**Suave y gris**

_-Soft and grey-_

* * *

Droplets of water poured down to the earthy ground. 

But they weren't rain. They were tears. Fuu's tears.

Her soft hands cradled the unmoving body. Cold, it felt cold. Instead of giving off warmth, it stole it... Her eyes were tightly shut, but nonetheless she was crying, and the tears fell as in slow-motion. At least Mugen saw them that way. And Jin? He was not crouched down next to the weeping girl, he was not close to her, trying (unsuccessfully) to comfort her: he didn't see them. He stood laconically behind her, and the only condolence he had offered was a small frown, and a warm hand on Fuu's shoulder.

To be all honest, Fuu was the only one who cared about the death. She could cry and cry, but Mugen and Jin would never (could never) feel so hurt because a pet squirrel had passed away. They only watched on as she mourned her friend, and felt it was so pathetic they couldn't do much more.

The girl ever-so-softly choked on a sob, and in turn started to cry harder.

For Mugen it was a new thing; his quarrel-partner who always seemed to be so tough, so fierce, so strong, so _unbreakable_, appearing now so weak, so frail.

For Jin... it was just life. Things, animals, people, all are born, all live, all die.

That was why the one crouched next to Fuu trying to 'make her reason' wasn't him, but Mugen.

That was why, after some moments in which her weeping diffused into the air and became just like the rain, cold and wet, he eventually walked away.

Fuu never noticed. She pressed the inert, petite body against her chest and two fat tears rolled down her almost drunk-rosy cheeks and splashed quietly the soft, grey fur. Sadness that was pent up inside her, product of times and times of unlikelinesses had finally cracked her, broken her. She wasn't that old, despite of what she pretended to be.

She wasn't that _strong_.

The sky was clouded, but the weather didn't seem like it would decompose soon. Mugen realized he had to be very subtle if he wanted to calm down the wreckage-of-a-girl that knelt close to him. Problem was, Mugen and subtle didn't belong in the same sentence (unless it had an 'is not' in between)

'Don't cry,' he said unenthusiastically, 'It only makes you look uglier.'

So much for being subtle.

Fuu hiccupped and wiped some tears, but they kept falling all the same. 'Shut up, you asshole...' Cotton-like dark clouds floated over her head, and the warm, pleasant afternoon sun definitely wasn't likely to shine through, not that day.

Momo's still, bland form against her heart was a pain that weighed her down, and even so she couldn't bring herself to let it go, because letting go would mean accepting that he was gone.

It was no good to try to stop crying, and in the moment Mugen's actions passed off to her as remotely normal. Tanned hands took her own pale ones and forced her to gently deposit her dead pet on the ground next to her. The feeling of towering over something so small, so _delicate_, made a surge of tears cloud her vision, tears one of the hands that weren't hers wiped off.

Her eyes appeared to him as liquid at the moment his own softened into a small smile. In the white light the clouded sky gave off, she looked pale, even unhealthy, and the smile in his features disappeared as soon as it had surfaced. She noticed with a hushed sob how the warmth his rugged skin on her hands provided was lost the moment the contact was broken.

'You cry, your heart breaks- if it breaks you don't move on,' he said, not looking at her, concentrated in removing the fresh earth.

Dirt started piling on the sides of a small hole.

Mugen's hands stopped on their own when the sound of her voice reached his ears. 'What are you doing that for...?'

He went on, without answering. She was still a small kid.

Sadness making her wince, Fuu avoided making eye contact with her grey, furry, soft friend. It only hurt more. When it looked like Mugen was done digging his middle-sized hole on the root-scented earth, he leant towards her a little bit, and, as tenderly as he could seem without being really _tender_, he took the dead squirrel and placed in the hole. Fuu looked on, in horror at the realization, how the dirt was pushed back into filling the empty spaces, until the mop of inert flesh disappeared from view under a considerable layer of dark brown earth.

And her tears fell, and fell, and fell, and all that was left of her dear Momo was a sloppy little mount of dirt.

Mugen reached out to wipe her tears (again) but decided against it and stopped halfway- his hands, tough and hardened by years of sword, were brownish and dirty and earthy. His eyes were the only thing that betrayed him when he tried to hold back his surprise.

Ignoring its current state, she cried into his hand, her face gradually getting dirt-stained and rosy again; and he let her cry. Eventually he felt the soft curve of her nose bury into his chest. With a reluctant sigh, blowing off a strand of coal-black hair from his face, (a face that had an "I-don't-really-want-to-do-this" expression plastered halfheartedly on it,) his arms wrapped gently around her.

Her reddened eyes started to close, and her vision gently became blurry.

Soft? His touch was soft...

Grey? The sky was grey...

* * *

* * *

**A/N:** I'm sorry if I got anyone OOC. I'm new to the world of SC... and don't really feel like researching aaaanything. I only brought myself to write because there aren't enough Fuugen fics out thereee x-X

Oh, and remember the title means "Soft and Grey"... liiiink it w/some part of the fic... XD you won't guess (sarcastic)

**PS:** Take this as AU, I know Momo doesn't die --


End file.
